


Bus stop

by kinneybaby83



Category: Sherlock (BBC)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 20:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneybaby83/pseuds/kinneybaby83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bus stop, bus go<br/>She stays, love grows<br/>Under my umbrella<br/>That umbrella<br/>We employed it<br/>By August she was mine</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bus stop

"Sir, if you can wait just an hour, im sure -" the rain fell heavily around him, pouring off the umbrella.  
Mycroft chuckled over the mobile, "My dear Anthea, if i am uncapable of finding my own transport, I am harldy worth my post. Any of them..." He eyed the bus stop as he spoke, noting the small, glass booth full up and one young woman standing out in the downpour . "I shall be there in good time, Anthea. No need to worry. Offer the ambassoder some of that fine tea in the mean time, " without waiting for reply or argument, he flipped his phone shut and silenced it. He had come to the little bench incased in glass, a welcome cover from the elements as one waited for the bus. But not for him. Or the young woman standing beside him, arms full of bags and earbuds stuffed under her drenched hair. While she acted none the worse for being completed lately soaked, Mycroft couldn't help but be the gentleman and positioned his umbrella to cover her head as well. It took a moment for her to realize what he had done, or even that there was anyone beside her. She looked up, confused; as if maybe the rain had stopped. Seeing the umbrella over her head, she followed the handle down to its owners hand. He found himself unable to contain his amusement at her, and was soon grinning down into a pair of beautiful, amazed hazel eyes. As the situation seemed to reveal itself, she quickly transfered her bags to one arm,freeing a hand to yank an ear bud out by its cord. 

" oh, my goodness! Thank you! Three years taking this route and no one's ever been that kind. Thank you! "  
His amused smile still held as she flustered and stammered.  
" I'm sure someone has taken to helping a poor damsel in distress before me. "  
She pulled a face, one eye squinting in a comical, nearly cartoon way.  
" Not as such. I'm labeled a nutter. Probably shouldn't have said that seeing as I don't want to scare you off. "  
Thinking of himself and his brother, the idea of being a 'nutter' wasn't so bad in the litany of names he had been called.  
He chuckled," oh, my dear girl, it would take a lot to frighten me away. Out of curiosity, I must know why you are so labeled... "  
Funny you should put it like that." She began pulling thins from one of her many reusable bags; yo-yos with skulls, black cat pendants, odds and ends one would associate with Halloween. While confused, his smile remained and he simply waited for explanation.  
"Most people don't let me explain, or when they do they don't believe me. Then again, this is tame stuff compared to what I normally have. My mum runs a curiosity shop catering to all things weird and creepy. She has me run out and get supplies when she finds them on sale in the papers and whatnot. People don't talk to me after I brought along that severed head. " She leaned in close to his ear to whisper,"it wasn't real, but they acted so funny about it I won't tell them otherwise." He supposed he should have been more worried when she said severed head in the first place, but once again he chalked it up to too many years with Sherlock for a brother. "So, are they scared you will take their souls, or more annoyed they have to take transit with lesser demons?" She threw her head back, red hair soaked auburn flying as she laughed. He couldn't explain why, but he had never been more enamored with a laugh. "Some mixture of the two, im afraid," she admitted. "where you headed?" For a moment, he didn't understand the question. Was there somewhere else, somewhere rather than beside her he was supposed to be? "Oh, yes... Islington. Meeting..." Her face fell. "Drat. Rout 38. That'll be the next bus round. This one's mine here. 14 to Piccadilly..." He hadn't even noticed the bus arive, let alone the other passangers were boarding. As they did, theyeither completely ignored the pair, or sent them scathing scowles. "Here." his attention was drawn back to her as she held out her hand to him. In it she dropped a note. He was utterly shocked and confused. "I beg your pardon?" She grinned, seemingly proud she had so scandalized him. "busses take exact change. You don't look the type to carry cash on you." she ran from the shelter of his umbrella to the bus. "you can pay me back tomorrow!" she shouted after. He stood there some time, rolling the money in his hand. Such kindness from someone who admittedly recived very little in her life. A black car pulled up in front of him. Of course; Anthea found him before he could even get on the bus. No matter. He would be back here tomorrow to see her. As he slipped into the car, he realized something about the woman. Apart from red hair, hazel eyes, and kindness... He had noticed nothing about her. Not that he hadn't been able to work that Holmes charm and see every detail... He just forgot to. Oh, yes. He would be back tomorrow


End file.
